Dirty Little Tease
by xxpinkwritesx
Summary: Dean's stuck in Meta!Verse with Misha Collins. He has no idea what he's in for. Spoilers for "The French Mistake," episode 6x15. Dean/Misha and later Dean/Misha/Sam, with sprinklings of Dean/Sam and a bit more Sam/Misha.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Warnings for D/s, public humiliation, dirty talk , threesome, DP, incest, oversensitivity!kink, rimming, slight pain!kink. (ALSO INCLUDES WARNINGS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS)

May be a bit screwed up in some places (lines out of order a bit) as this was originally a roleplay over tumblr.

Cristina (rewrite-the-role-we-play on tumblr; MissStud here) wrote Misha's parts, I was Dean.

* * *

><p>Dean looked around the set, fidgeting as he waited for Sam to come back from the not-Ruby's house. He glanced up and saw the… actor, he guessed, who played Castiel. What was his name again?Something with an M.<p>

Misha, maybe?

"God, what the hell's a Misha?" He muttered, rubbing his fingers on his temple.

"You fucker, you're just messing with me, aren't you?"

Dean's head shot up and he turned, eyes wide. "Uh… you're not — Yes, yes, I am."

Misha rolled his eyes, "Funny, Jen." He lowered his voice down to Castiel-level tone. "You should show me some respect," he said, grinning toothily.

Dean look away, coughing, and blushed, tip of his ears turning red. "Yes, sir, Misha!" he said, winking to hide the flush.

Misha cocked his head, squinting at him. "You're acting kind of weird, Jensen. Late night?" He winked, waiting for an answer.

Dean flushed again and licked his lips. "I, uh, yeah, I guess. I — I mean, not like that, but, um." He looked away, avoiding Misha's gaze.

Misha raised an eyebrow. "Riiiight, you and Jared, hmm?" He smirked.

Dean snapped his head up, mouth opening and closing before looking at him. "What—I—no! We're not together!"

Misha scoffed, "Of course you aren't sweetie, I totally understand discretion." He grinned widely, nose wrinkling.

Dean sighed. "Jesus, does everyone in every goddamn universe think S — Jared and I are a thing?" he asked, shaking his head.

Misha winked. "Just basically the entire fandom. Except the ones that think we're fucking." Misha leered.

"Fandom- I - what. Why do people think of these things?" Dean choked out, face reddening.

Misha shot him a look. "Jensen, you know better than I that once the fandom gets it into their heads about something, they never quit. What's up with you?"

Dean swallowed. This "acting like whoever-the-hell Ackles" thing might be harder than he thought.

"I, uh... it was a really late night and... damn, I could use a beer. Do you want to...?" He trailed off, not quite sure what he was asking.

Misha cocked his head - eerily Castiel-like - and his eyes crinkled at the edges.

"You sure you don't want to go with Jared?" He grinned again, nose wrinkling.

"Nah, I'm good. I mean, I wouldn't want to look like a pimp, going out with both of my 'boyfriends.'" He says laughingly, feeling for the first time that yeah, he might be okay in this screwy universe.

Misha smirked, blue eyes flashing. "No, wouldn't want that," he murmured, voice a little softer.

Dean smiled as Cas — no, Misha's voice softened.

"So, uh, you want to drive together, or should I...?" he asked, letting the question hang. He still had no idea where anything in this universe was. Hell, he didn't know where anything in Canada was anyway, Twilight Zone or not.

Misha grinned. "Yeah, I got it." He grabbed a pair of keys and opened an Audi, slipping inside and peering at Dean.

"You coming?" He smirked, winking.

"Not yet," He said, grinning as he slid into the passenger's seat.

Misha grinned, all white teeth, gums, and crinkly nose, and pulled out, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in a rhythmic, repetitive beat.

"You sure you're up for a night out with me again, Jen? Last time you didn't fare so well." Misha shot him a smirk, eyes gleaming.

Dean laughed nervously. "'Course, man. I, uh, hardly remember last time." He said, thoughts beginning to race. Shit, of course they'd hung out before. They worked together. He gazed out the window, hoping this Jensen guy hadn't done anything too stupid around Misha before.

Misha pulled into a noisy bar and sat in the parking lot, looking at him, blue eyes piercing and knowing—very Castiel-like in their intensity.

"You're not Jensen, are you?"

Dean froze, trapped in that intense blue gaze. He thought of a thousand things he could say- he could laugh it off, tell this man he's insane; he could claim he was going through a personal crisis or something.

"Hi. I'm Dean Winchester, and I really need a goddamn beer right now."

Or he could do that.

Misha laughed, low and throaty, and got out of the car.

"Well then, Mr. Dean Winchester, let's get you a beer." His eyes were twinkling and they were dark with something unnamed and intense.

Dean got out of the car, his body running on autopilot. "I- wait. What? You just... does this happen _often_ around here or something?" he asked, following Misha into the bar.

Misha made a careless gesture.

"Nah. But I think you'll find I'm a little more…open that most," he said, flashing Dean a wicked grin. "I'm not exactly like your precious Cas." He threw Dean a lewd wink.

Well, that went better than expected, Dean thought, still somewhat dumbfounded by Misha's response. "...And by open, you mean you would believe a co-worker went Twilight Zone with the guy he plays on a TV show or whatever this is?" He had to admit it - At this point, most normal people would be freaking out, not... flirting with him or whatever this was. "I expected a few questions, at least."

Misha shrugged. "Well, it's Supernatural. I would assume that can happen in the Supernatural world." He turned to look at him, leaning against the wall of the bar, eyelashes thick and dark.

"The only question I have is are we gonna get this fucking beer, or not?" His voice dropped down an octave, nearly at Castiel-level.

Dean's eyes widened as Misha spoke in that deep, gorgeous voice he only ever heard from Castiel. It sounded so familiar, but at the same time so different, coming from this guy... and no matter who it came from, it was still hot as hell.

"Um." was the only response he could think of at that moment.

Misha's mouth curled at a corner, eyes flashing with heat.

"So you do have a thing for that, huh?" He asked softly, stretching lazily, cat-like, a sliver of skin exposed in between his pants and shirt.

Dean stared as Misha's shirt rode up, unconsciously stepping closer. "I—fuck, yes." he admitted, voice rough.

Misha saw Dean's stare and smirked, arm reaching out to wrap around his wrist, pulling him into that precious Personal Space zone.

"Come on, cowboy, you want that beer or what?" He asked, voice still low and throaty.

Dean shivered as that voice washed over him, hardly hearing the meaning behind the words. "Uh. Yeah, beer. Drunk could be a good idea right now." He replied absently, focusing more on the warm hand on his wrist than anything around him.

Misha smirked, dragging a thumb across the fluttering pulse on the underside of Dean's wrist.

"Yeah?" He breathed, right in Dean's ear. "I don't know, you drunk... I might not be able to keep myself from having my way with you."

Dean bit back a moan as Misha's breath ghosted across his ear. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't need me drunk to have your way with me."

Misha chuckled, low and dirty, bringing the finger not on Dean's wrist to trace Dean's ear. "Oh, really?"

Dean pressed closer to Misha, lightly pinning him against the wall with his body.

"Definitely," he breathed, pressing his lips lightly to Misha's.

Misha opened his mouth and kissed back, turning the light kiss into something dirty and pornographic, fingers digging into Dean's hips.

"God, you really are as easy as Jensen makes you look, huh?" Misha said in a low voice, eyes gleaming and lips slightly swollen.

Dean moaned into the kiss, arching his hips up into Misha's touch, breathing heavily as he broke the kiss. "Not- not that easy." he said, trying to be indignant.

Misha laughed, rich and low.

"You sure?" He asked, grinning, eyes slitted as he dragged his nails up Dean's shirt, slowly pulling it up.

He groaned, shivering as Misha made his way up his chest. "Fuck, just- maybe I'm just a little easy." he said as he bent to capture Misha's kiss-bruised lips again.

Misha chuckled lowly into Dean's mouth, nipping at his lower lip and sucking it in. _A little?_ His eyes seemed to say, dark and gleaming mischievously.

Dean groaned, breaking the kiss for a moment. "So, maybe we should forget the beer and get out of here?" he asked. "I mean, I could just suck you off in the bathroom, but..."

Misha made a low sound, leaning his head against Dean's forehead.  
>"Oh, <em>fuck<em>, you dirty little _whore_."

Dean moaned, eyes dark with arousal at Misha's words. Misha pressed a biting kiss to Dean's lips and dragged him back to the car, pinning him to the side.

"Fuck, Misha, please!" he begged, grinding his hips against Misha, looking for friction.

Misha growled, licking a wet stripe from Dean's collarbone to his neck to the tip of his jaw. "Begging for me now, Dean? You dirty slut."

Dean leaned his head back, baring more of his neck for Misha as he groaned. "God, yes, Misha, please, fuck!" he pleaded, his hands coming up to tangle in Misha's hair.

Misha nipped at Dean's neck, growling softly. "Look at you," he said, voice throaty, "begging for it, _pleading_ for it. I bet you'd just let me take you right here. Right. Now. In this public parking lot in front of a busy bar." He punctuated his words by rolling his hips savagely.

Dean moaned as Misha ground against him, whimpering. "Misha, yes, fuck, anywhere, just fuck me," he said, hardly conscious of what he said.

Misha laughed softly, sucking the skin behind Dean's ear. "You cocktease, coming in all confused and pretending to be Jen. But Jen is never like this, never so wanton and slutty. That's all Dean, isn't it?"

"God, _yes_, I-I'm a slut, your slut. Just — fuck, _please_," he gasped, groaning at the sensations thrumming through his body.

Misha hummed, moving from Dean's ear to his jaw, sucking a vibrant hickey on the line and moving his hands to grip Dean's hips.

"My slut, hmm? Well, what an offer," he murmured, taking a finger and sliding Dean's shirt up, tantalizingly.

"Why are you such a tease, Misha?" he asked breathily, twisting his fingers in Misha's hair and tugging.

The dark-haired man hummed, biting at Dean's jaw and sucking at the pulse point. "Are you really whore enough to let me fuck you right here, in front of everyone?" He asked instead of answering the question, and lowered his voice, getting right at Castiel-range.

Dean moans as Misha's voice drops into that deep, growling tone he hears so often from Castiel. "Yes, please, Misha! God, I'll do anything, just _please_ fuck me." he asks, desperate.

Misha smirked, eyes gleaming darkly and started unzipping Dean's jeans, sliding them and his boxers down, pooling at the ankles. He gripped Dean's hips and placed him on top of the car, stepping in between Dean's spread legs.

"You're such a greedy little cockslut, begging for more," he hissed into Dean's panting mouth.

"Oh god, thank you, fuck, finally," he breathed, pulling Misha in for another kiss, sloppy and rough and desperate.

Misha allowed the kiss, sliding his hands under Dean's shirt and scratching his nails against his back. One hand followed the path of Dean's spine, teasing right at the crack and the other curved around Dean's erection. He grinned at Dean's whine. "Such a pretty little slut, aren't you, Dean?"

The hunter whimpered at the nails scratching down his spine, arching into Misha as he tried to thrust into his fist. "Please, Misha, just wanna come!" he panted, slipping into his Kansas drawl.

Misha leaned his lips to tease at Dean's ear, nipping on the tip. "Not until I say so, my little bitch," he growled, soft and dangerous.

"Please, Misha, please, _God_," Dean moaned, letting his head fall back as he widened his legs further.

"Look at that," Misha cooed, sliding a hand in his pocket to take out the lube. He coated his hand generously with it and slid a slick finger inside Dean's wet heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight. God, look at you, you little cockslut."

Dean keened as Misha's finger entered him, biting his lip at the delicious burn. "GodyesMishapleasemore," he breathed, grinding down.

Misha, grinning wickedly, crooked his finger a certain way, sliding in up to the knuckle before sliding out, thrusting inside of him. He was still dressed, and he pressed a palm to his groin to stop himself from coming.

"Begging for me now, Dean?" Misha tsked, "What would people say?"

He arched into Misha, biting into his shoulder to muffle his moans. God, he could only imagine how he looked, half-naked in the parking lot of some noisy bar, begging like the slut he was deep down. He shuddered at the thought, digging his fingers into Misha's scalp.

He gasped at Misha's words, still in that throaty growl. "I don't - fuck, Misha - don't care, god, just _fuck me now_, please," he replied, still thrusting down as much as he could on that finger inside him.

Misha slid a second finger in, scissoring and jabbing brutally, sucking a dark mark on Dean's neck.

"You beg so prettily," he purred, pulling back to brush his thumb on Dean's swollen lips, eying the arch of the defined cheekbones and sharp jaw line, long eyelashes thick and golden. Dean whimpered, his lips parting, tongue coming out to lick at Misha's finger, catching his eyes as he sucked it into his mouth.

"Fuck," Misha growled, eyes slitting, a third finger slipping inside. Dean's entrance was hungry, sucking in his fingers up to the knuckle and he groaned, biting a bruising kiss on Dean's jaw.

"Such a pretty whore," he breathed, thrusting his fingers into Dean's prostate.  
>Dean groaned, the slight pain from Misha's roughness the only thing keeping him from coming right then.<p>

He moaned, tugging at Misha's hair as he tried to hold off his orgasm. "Please, Misha, so close, want you inside me, _please_," he begged.

Misha laughed, rich and deep. "God, are you that much of a slut that you could come with just my fingers in your ass?" He sucked a deep, vibrant mark to Dean's collarbone, rolling his hips against Dean's ass. "You're not gonna come until I say so, _got it,_ Winchester?"

He whimpered, trying to keep his hips from rolling back onto those fingers. "Yes sir, Misha," he breathed.

Misha smiled, burying his nose into the hollow of Dean's neck, licking a long, wet strip from the collarbone to the tip of his jaw, tongue running over Dean's fluttering pulse. Dean shivered, baring more of his neck to Misha.

"Good boy," he purred, twisting his fingers even more.

He bit his lip as Misha twisted his fingers, panting. "Please, please, Misha, just... please?"

Misha hummed, lips finding Dean's, sliding a wet, tongue inside the warm heat of his mouth, exploring, claiming.

"Since you begged so nicely," he murmured against panting lips, removing his fingers. He used one hand, clever, slender fingers practiced and decisive, to unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down until the evidence of his arousal sprang free, other hand sliding around Dean's hip and rolling Dean's balls between his fingers.

Turning Dean around, he pressed him against the car, his heat burning into Dean's naked skin. He bit at the spot where the shoulder meets the neck and slid in, inching in slowly.

Dean moaned low in his throat as Misha filled him, shuddering between the cold metal of the car and Misha's heat. "God, so _good_, fuck, thank you, Misha... sir," he breathed.

Softly, Misha chuckled, shifting his hips forward a bit, catching Dean's prostate. "I wouldn't thank me just yet, pretty boy."

Dean whined, rolling his hips back into Misha.. "Harder, please, sir," he panted, clenching hard around his cock.

"You do what I say, and when I say it. Isn't that what a good whore does, Dean?" He bit out, undulating his hips viciously, still not letting Dean move.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry, sir," he moaned, "I want to-to be a good whore for you. Please, fuck me, _use me_."

Misha nibbled at Dean's earlobe. "Atta boy," he breathed, hips snapping forward, eyes hooded.

Dean whimpered, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood. "God, yes, _please_, use me, fuck!" he panted, trying not to rock back into Misha's hips.

Laughing softly, Misha snapped his hips again, biting down hard on the back of Dean's neck. He pushed him closer to the car.

"If you're a good boy and you make me come, maybe I'll let you touch yourself until you can too, okay?" He whispered lowly, tone caressing Dean's skin like fine-woven silk.

Dean gasped as Misha bit him, the shock of pain mixing into the pleasure that was slowly overwhelming him.

"Yes, sir, thank you, whatever you want... whatever you think I deserve," he moaned.

"Whatever I want…" Misha purred, laving his tongue on the skin he'd just bitten. "You really shouldn't say those kinds of words to me, pretty boy."

He shivered, Misha's voice affecting him much, much more than it should. "I want you to fuck me, use me, _anything. _I want anything you want to give me. Fuck, Misha, I'm your slut, your bitch. Just _please_, anything you want."

Misha made a pleased, dark sound in the back of his throat, nosing along the trembling line of Dean's neck. "Well, would you look at that," he breathed hotly against his skin. "The cocksure Mr. Dean Winchester, completely at another man's mercy. Who would've thought of that?"

His tone is nonchalant, amused, but his fingers trail down Dean's body and his hips snap forward.

Dean shivered, hips jerking reflexively at Misha's tone. "God, yes," he breathed, his body arching slightly into Misha's touch.

Misha thrust into him, sinking his teeth onto his neck, sucking vibrant hickeys all along his jaw. He nibbled at Dean's earlobe. "You look so fucking _pretty_, all under my control."

"Yes, f-fuck, Misha, yours," he moaned, thrusting back onto Misha's cock. "Harder, please, sir," he begged, panting.

Misha hummed, the fingers on Dean's hips gripping tighter.

"Didn't I say you couldn't move, sweetheart?" He drawls, voice falling into an imitation of the patented Dean Winchester pet name.

Dean bit his lip, breath catching. "I-I'm sorry, Misha, just so fucking _good,_ just want more," he gasped. "Please don't stop."

"God, do you have any idea what you look like right now? Such a good little whore, half-naked in the public parking lot in front of a bar, legs spread wide and moaning oh-so-pretty for the man fucking you." Misha growled and thrusted in deeper.

Dean keened, throwing his head back, leaning against Misha. "Please, please, sir, can I come?" he asked, his face reddening further with shame and arousal.

Misha ignored the question, stroking Dean's cock with one clever hand and leaning forward, eyes intent on the flush of Dean's cheeks.

"Look at you. You get off on humiliation. Shit, you really are the perfect whore," he purred.

Dean whimpered, flushing even darker as he tried not to thrust up into Misha's hand. "Please, let me come, please, sir." he begged, craning his neck to meet Misha's eyes, looking up at him through his lashes.

"_Fuck_," Misha breathed, his own eyes wide, pupils blown so that there was the barest blue in the midst of all the black.

He thrusted up once more, harsh and jerking, and came, panting against Dean's back as he stroked Dean's hipbones, still not letting him come. He watched, darkly amused, as Dean attempted to hold himself still even when he desperately wanted to clench, to just let go.

But not yet. Not until Misha said so.

Dean shuddered as he felt Misha come inside of him. "Sir, please, may I come? Y-you said if I- if I made you come, you'd let me... please, can I? Just want it so, so _bad_," he moaned, far past caring if he sounded like a whore.

"What was that, Dean?" Misha's breath tickled at Dean's earlobe, as he nibbled it gently.

"I couldn't seem to hear you. You wanted something?" His tone was low, dangerous.

Dean whimpered. "Please, sir, please let me come. I've done- I'll do anything, whatever you ask, just please?" he said, half-begging, half-whining.

Misha slid out and pressed two slick fingers into Dean's ass, twisting at the oversensitive prostate before removing them, holding them to Dean's mouth. Dean bit his lip, muffling the near-scream as Misha's fingers found his prostate, sensations on the border of pain and pleasure exploding at the base of his spine.

"You sure you're not hungry? You've been such a hardworking little whore, surely you want some nutrition." Misha says, cocking his head to the side and twisting them around so that Dean's ass is against the car, chest to chest.

Dean let Misha turn him around, and opened his mouth obediently, sucking and licking at his fingers.

"Thank you, sir," he said, licking a drop of come off his bottom lip. They were chest to chest, breathing the same air and Misha pressed his mouth to Dean's, tongue tangling hot and filthy against his.

He pulled back, licking that neck he was so fond of, a stripe from his collarbone to the tip of his jaw. He moved his mouth to Dean's ear, nipping and sucking the earlobe, dragging on the torture. "You can come now, Dean. Let go for me, _come_."

At Misha's command, Dean tensed, moaning as he came, come streaking both of their stomachs. He leaned into Misha, kissing him lazily. "Thank you for letting me come, sir," he whispered against Misha's lips.

Misha stroked Dean's neck. "You've been a good boy," he purred, exchanging lazy kisses against the car.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Misha?" he says quietly, between kisses, "Maybe we should stop and check on Sam? He's been alone at... Jared's place for a while." He sighed, not really wanting the cuddly afterglow to end just yet.

Misha made an annoyed but agreeing sound, pressing another kiss to Dean's lips.

He turned, eyebrow quirking. "Look at our audience. They knew what a pretty picture you made, Dean," he breathed, licking at Dean's jaw.

Dean's eyes widened. He hadn't really thought about what would happen after. He shivered, realising he'd just gotten fucked raw in front of an audience... admitted he was Misha's slut, begged for release. His cheeks turned pink as he turned to where Misha was looking.

There was a crowd of people standing behind them, eyes wide. Most of the women looked either lazy and dazed or incredibly aroused, eyes dark and shifting feet. The men just looked a mixture of scandalized and turned on beyond belief, shifting awkwardly.

Misha chuckled lowly beside Dean, eying his pink cheeks. "You liked it, didn't you my little whore. Dean Winchester, exhibitionism kink revealed."

"Yes, sir," Dean replied quietly, almost unconsciously trying to inch himself behind Misha as he spoke.

Misha grinned and took pity on Dean, pushing him into the car.

Once Dean was in, he turned and waved blithely at the people. "That's all for today, folks! Come by soon and maybe there will be another special live presentation."

Misha snickered as he slipped into the car, glancing at Dean as he turned the car on. He raised an eyebrow.

"So, Dean, what would your angel think of the hot sex you just had with his look-a-like?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. He'd probably say something about it 'not being of import' or something." he said, chuckling.

One side of Misha's lips curled up. "I don't even know how I'm gonna play him now that this has happened. Kind of changes my whole perspective on you…"

"How so?" he asked. "I'm still a drunk whore that sleeps around," he laughed. "That side of me, that you saw tonight... not a lot of people have ever seen that. Not even Sammy." He said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he mentioned his brother, like he'd said more than he'd meant to.

Misha hummed thoughtfully and looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"You're a lot more than a drunk whore who sleeps around, Dean. Come on, surely I don't need to say that." Misha smirked good-naturedly.

"Hardly," he said, smiling slightly. "I'm a hunter, a big brother, and that's about it. I'm just a person."

Misha shook his head. "Jesus, I can't believe you're seriously that self-deprecating. I gotta give props to Jensen when I next see him."

"I'm not, though, that's what nobody understands. I do my job. Somebody has to." He says.

"Yeah you are. But it's cool. It's not my job to convince you otherwise."

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Am not." He retorted, always the mature one.

"So mature." He caught the look Dean gave him and clenched his jaw.

Misha turned to look at Dean at a stoplight, eyes serious and sombre.

"Why'd you let me see it then?" His voice was quiet.

He sighed as Misha's tone changed. "I'm not really sure. I guess there's something about you that makes you seem trustworthy. Or, you know," he continued, grinning, "it could be that goddamn irresistible voice of yours."

Misha cocked his head. "You sure it's not because I look like that angel of yours?"

"Wait, have you and this Jensen guy fucked?" he asks, because honestly, he really does not want to think about Misha's question.

Misha stilled at the question, hands gripping hard on the steering wheel.

"No," he admitted, voice soft. He cleared his throat and looked at Dean. "He's married," he said stiffly.

"I'm sorry." He said, lowering his eyes.

"It's…fine," Misha struggled for a moment with the words.

"You didn't answer my question," he said with a slight grin.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his response. "I'm not really sure, to be honest. I mean, it's not like I'm confusing you for him or some shit- you two are so different it kind of scares me that you look so like him. I just- I don't want to look at this really hard and feel like shit about something good happening, for once."

Misha smirked at Dean's answer.

"You think I was good, then?"  
>Dean chuckled. "Damn, I thought cheapening a moment was my thing," he said, smiling, "But yeah, it was pretty fucking excellent." He stretched out lazily, leaning the seat back a bit.<p>

Misha caught the languid movement and shifted in his seat. "You should probably stop doing that," he teased, voice gone a little lower.

Dean bit his lip. "Oh, you can be a tease, but I can't innocently stretch my legs?" He smiled.

Misha's eyes widened innocently.

"When was I ever a tease?"

"Yeah, you're not a tease at all," he replied, laughing. "Saying all that filthy stuff in that sexy-as-hell voice. Nothing teasing at all." He leaned back further, catching Misha's eye as he licked his lips.

Misha had parked by then and watched as Dean licked his lips, pink tongue wetting that full mouth.

"Hey, I didn't know you got off on being called a whore," he shrugged, voice low, and still staring at Dean's mouth.

Dean shivered, blushing faintly. "You're gonna totally abuse that knowledge, aren't you?" Misha smirked, "It's like you don't know me at all."

He noticed Misha's focus and smiled, leaning forward suddenly to kiss him, licking his way into Misha's mouth quickly before pulling back with a smirk.  
>"So, this is Jared's place?" He said, opening the car door.<p>

His pupils were dilated, lips softly wet.

"Yeah, this is it," he said, voice hoarse.

"Sweet." he said, already striding up to the massive house. "He said something about Gen not being here or something, gone all night for some charity." He knocked on the front door before opening it to reveal the interior of the mansion.  
>"Honey, I'm home!" he called, not seeing Sam as he entered.<p>

Misha made a small sound, wrapping his slender fingers around Dean's wrist.

He pushed him up against the wall and kissed him, hands snaking into Dean's hair and mouth hot and insistent on his.

He pulled back, eyes wide and hair dishevelled. "Sorry, couldn't help it. You're a fucking cocktease."

Dean groaned as Misha pressed him against the wall.  
>"Hey, that was revenge. You fucked me in a parking lot and wouldn't even let me come until you said." He shuddered at the thought, nipping Misha's bottom lip lightly.<p>

Misha slotted their hips together, breathing hotly against Dean's lips.

"You liked it."

He whimpered at the contact, rutting his hips against Misha's.  
>"Damn straight." He said, not noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.<br>"Oh my god, Dean, I left you alone for like an hour."  
>And there's the cockblocking baby brother.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Cristina (MissStud on here, rewrite-the-role-i-play on tumblr) is Misha, I (pinkwrites on tumblr) am Dean and Sam.

* * *

><p>Misha groaned softly, dropping his head to Dean's collarbone for a moment before looking up.<p>

"So you must be Sam, the cockblocking little brother." His tone was light and teasing, smile crooked, but he didn't move from where he had Dean pinned.

"Cas, what the hell? Why are- did you and Dean finally hook up?" he asked, confused.  
>Dean snickered as Misha turned toward Sam. "This is Misha Collins. The actor who plays Castiel in the show."<br>Sam blinked. "Um. Does he know...?"

"Do I know that Dean here has a thing for the little angel that could? Yes." He grinned, his teeth gleaming and sharp, shark-like.

He slid a discreet hand underneath Dean's shirt, rubbing circles on Dean's hip.

"Uh. Not what I was going to ask, but that answers it anyway. Dean, I, uh. I haven't found anything useful yet, and Cas isn't answering his cell."  
>Dean arched forward into Misha's hand "Good. Keep looking. I'll entertain Misha."<p>

Misha hummed and turned his attention to Dean, scraping his nails along Dean's soft stomach, huffing quietly.

"You have got to have the most adorable stomach in existence," Misha grinned, eyes crinkling, as if he knows Dean will blush at it.

Dean blushed. "I- uh, yeah, um, I'll go do that." Sam stuttered, eyes wide, still watching the both of them.  
>"It's chubby! How's that adorable?" he asked, wriggling as Misha's nails scraped against him.<p>

"It's cute," Misha cooed, sliding down to his knees and pressing kisses to the skin. He nipped at it, tongue slipping out to dip into his belly button.

"It is not." he said, the objection fading into a moan as Misha licked at his bellybutton, his eyes sliding shut as he dragged his fingers through Misha's hair.

Misha chuckled against Dean's skin, dragging his teeth across that soft belly.

"Oh, but it is."

Dean whined, lightly pushing Misha's head lower. "God, how am I the tease, really?"  
>His eyes snapped open as he heard a gasp from across the room, seeing Sam still standing there, watching, eyes wide.<br>Sam blinked a few times, shaking his head. "I- I, um. I should go."

Misha blinked from where he was nuzzling Dean's crotch.

"Unless you wanna join," he said lazily, still mouthing at Dean's cock through his pants.

Dean groaned. "That's so fucking wrong." he said, still brushing his fingers through Misha's hair.  
>"I- he's- that's my brother!" Sam protested, blushing slightly.<br>Dean snorted. "If - oh, fuck - you don't want to, there's so many better objections than that."  
>"What the hell, Dean?"<br>"I wasn't that drunk, Sam. You kissed me. And I remember it."

Misha grinned, sucking on the wet spot of Dean's pants, the precome making that part of his jeans dark.

Sam gaped at him, dumbfounded. "I- shit, Dean. You- you weren't- why did you- stupid fucking older brother act, damnit." he said, realising why Dean hadn't said anything before.

"Come on, Sam, I've already got him all loosened up for you. You don't even have to prep him." He slid his fingers into Dean's belt loops, sliding under the waistband of his boxers to tickle at the skin.

Dean moaned. "Take it or - fuck, Misha - leave it, Sam," he panted, "but hurry the fuck up."  
>Sam swallowed. "I'm in."<p>

Misha purred against Dean's skin, clever fingers having unbuttoned his jeans and slid down his boxers. He licked a long, wet stripe up Dean's thigh and sucked a mark to his hipbones.

"Oh, fuck, Misha," Dean breathed, wishing he would just put that pretty little mouth on his cock already.

"So how's it gonna be? Sam, you wanna fuck Dean while I suck him off? Is that how it's gonna work?"

"I- yeah, that works." he said, unbuckling his belt as he stepped towards them.  
>"Dean, you good with that?" he asked.<p>

"Oh, Dean's good with anything, Sam. He's quite the little whore." Misha bit at Dean's stomach, licking the bite with a raspy tongue.

"Isn't that right, Dean?"

Dean whimpered, his hips jerking forward. "Y-yes sir, Misha," he muttered, blushing furiously.  
>"Holy shit." Sam breathed, not believing what was happening. His brother- his bossy, womanizing brother - getting off on being called a whore.<br>Nice.  
>"Uh, guys, there's a really fucking massive bedroom down the hall. Might be better than the foyer."<p>

Misha sucked another mark on Dean's hipbone before nodding and grabbing Dean's wrist.

"Come now, Dean," he murmured, eyes twinkling. He smirked at Sam.

"He comes when I tell him to, too."

Dean nodded, stepping out of his jeans as he followed Misha. "Yes, sir." he replied automatically, eyes downcast.  
>"Jesus fuck that's hot." Sam said, leading them down the hall. He opened a door towards the end, stepping inside and leaning back on the four-poster bed.<p>

"But isn't it?" Misha crooned, pushing Dean onto the bed and crawling over him, straddling his hips.

"You are such a slut, Dean, letting yourself get manhandled by two men." He cupped Dean's jaw, nail digging into Dean's neck, before sliding his hand and body down, settling between Dean's legs.

Dean whimpered, trying not to move, to arch into Misha's touch. "Please," he said, biting his lip.  
>"Really, Dean, begging already?" Sam teased, leaning so his lips were just above Dean's. "He was right, you really are a slut. You don't even care who it comes from, you want fucked that bad." He said, ducking his head to bite at Dean's neck, roughly sucking a bruise to the spot. "Look at you, already covered in bites and bruises, you fucking love this, don't you, being marked up, owned?"<br>Dean moaned. "Fuck, Sammy, yes."

Misha watched through lidded eyes, smirking appreciatively.

"Such a good little slut, Dean," he cooed, mouthing his cock through his boxers, nuzzling it with his jaw.

"God, no idea how fucking hot you look, Dean." He breathed, capturing Dean's lips in a brutal, biting kiss.  
>Dean moaned into Sam's mouth, reaching to twist his fingers into Sam's hair, tugging him closer.<br>"Fuck, Dean," he panted, dragging his nails harshly down Dean's side.  
>"Sit up, need to get this goddamn shirt off you."<p>

Misha hummed, sliding his boxers over Dean's hips and breathing hotly on Dean's cock.

He looked up at Sam, eyes gleaming. "Good, Sam, just like that. He likes it rough like that."

Misha licked a wet stripe from Dean's thigh to his hip, sinking his teeth into the skin.

Dean sat up, hips jerking as Misha's breath touched his cock. "F-fuck, Misha," he breathed, nearly ripping his shirt over his head.  
>"Good boy, Dean," Sam told him, licking and biting a trail down his chest. "What about you, Misha? What do you like?" he asks, a predatory smile on his face.<p>

Misha looked up, mouth hovering hot before Dean's cock.

"What do I like?" He raised an eyebrow and hummed before taking Dean all the way into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. His eyes lit up in amusement.

Dean keened, pulling harder at Sam's hair as he reflexively thrusted into the warm, wet heat of Misha's mouth. Sam growled, biting at Dean's shoulder.  
>"Yeah. Dean likes being made into everyone's bitch," he said, pinching one of Dean's nipples and twisting it harshly, loving the pained moan it drew from him. "I like... well, I like a lot of things, but fuck if it isn't the biggest turn-on ever to have somebody pulling your hair while you're fucking them. So yeah, what do you like?"<p>

Misha sucked in sharply, twisting his tongue around the head of Dean's cock as he thought for a moment.

His lips made an obscene pop as he pulled them off.

"I like it when things have a little bite," he murmured, scratching his teeth gently up Dean's cock, slicking his tongue into Dean's slit.

Sam hummed to himself, sitting up as he began to unbutton his shirt.  
>"I think somebody's getting rather spoiled, don't you, Misha? I think I'd like to hear him beg for a while."<br>Dean opened his eyes, looking a bit dazed. "Sam – I – oh, please, don't stop." he whined.

Misha made an agreeing sort of noise, giving kitten licks at the head of Dean's cock before swallowing him down again, deep-throating him.

His eyes burned as they eyed Sam's muscular chest and Dean's flushed face.

"Oh fuck yes, Misha, fuck!" Dean moaned, wriggling slightly as he restrained from fucking into Misha's mouth.  
>"You're lucky Misha's so generous, Dean. If I had my way with you... you'd be begging for hours while I did whatever the hell I wanted with you, keeping you on the edge for ages." he murmured, moving down to where Misha was on the bed. "Doesn't that sound lovely?" he asked, tracing the shell of Misha's ear with his tongue before nipping at the lobe.<p>

Misha shivered, eyes falling half-closed. He relaxed his throat, jaw aching slightly.

"Sam…" Misha's voice was broken, deep and raw, muffled by Dean's heavy erection in his mouth.

Dean bit his lip, groaning as the vibrations of Misha's voice surrounded his cock. "Please, Misha, can I come?"  
>Sam looked up at him. "I think Misha's a little preoccupied at the moment." he said with a smile.<br>"What do you think, Misha? Should we let him come, then turn him over and fuck him?" he asked, lips brushing Misha's ear. "Or should we keep him waiting, and let him watch while we... entertain ourselves?"

Misha hummed, popping off of Dean's cock and licking his lips, leaving them slick and wet.

He pulled Sam in by the belt loops and slanted his mouth over Sam's, hot and velvety. He tangled his hands in Sam's long hair and yanked him closer.

"Does that answer your question?" He asked, panting over Sam's open mouth.

Sam gasped, his head falling back a bit.  
>"Um," he swallowed, "I suppose it does." He ducked down, pressing his lips to Misha's, thrusting his tongue in brutally and raking his nails down Misha's back. "Shirt. Off. Now." He turned back toward his brother, who was lying on the bed with a rather dazed expression.<br>"You so much as look like you're going to touch yourself and so help me I will tie you to the headboard." He warned before ducking his head to bite a spot just under Misha's jaw.

Misha growled, struggling to tear off his shirt while keeping Sam's mouth on him. He had to break away and strip it off, eyes on Sam as he did so. He wasn't nearly so muscled as Sam nor as broad as Dean, but he was slim and lean, fit stomach and sharp, protruding hipbones.

He stepped forward and reached up to twist his fingers into Sam's hair, yanking Sam's head down to his mouth, tongue-fucking him as his eyes met Dean's.

"God damn, so fucking gorgeous," he said, eyeing Misha's hips, dragging his hands down the lean body to grab them.  
>Dean whimpered, tempted to move just so Sam would tie him up, but the picture in front of him is too hot to interrupt.<br>"Oh, I'm sorry, Dean, did you want something?" Sam asks, tearing his mouth away from Misha's. "Too fucking bad. Now lie back like a good whore and enjoy the show."

Misha's mouth curved up, eyes wicked. "Impressive, Sam," he murmured, tracing his own fingers down Sam's hips, the tip of his index finger trailing every ridge of his muscles and mouth sucking a spot on Sam's tattoo.

Sam moaned quietly, fingers of one hand now tracing the waistband of Misha's pants.  
>He dug his fingers harder into Misha's hips, wanting it to bruise, to mark him. "Now, where were we?"<p>

He pulled back, eyes hooded.

"Where did you want us to be, Sam?" His voice had dropped an octave, at that range that just did things to Dean, and Misha knew it.

Dean bit his lip, sitting up a bit more to watch them better.  
>"I think," he said, dropping to his knees, "I wanted to be here." he tongued along the sharp angle of a hipbone, biting down harshly at the top of it.<p>

Misha sucked on his own bottom lip, eyes slitted. He snaked his fingers in Sam's hair and yanked him closer.

"That's it, Sam," he rasped, throwing his head back and gasping.

Sam growled, sucking a bruise to the spot he'd just bitten. "Fucking gorgeous," he said, standing briefly to push Misha roughly down onto the bed, straddling him.

"Fuck, _Sam_," Misha gasped, arching his back into the muscular hunter's heat. His hips, sensitive to touch, snapped up and a low, rumbling sound vibrated in his chest.

"So sensitive," Sam purred, licking a line along the bone, before switching to the other side.  
>"Sam, Misha, please," Dean gasped brokenly. "Please, touch me, let me- something, please."<br>"What do you think, Misha?" he hummed, scraping his teeth along the sharp angle of bone. "Should we let him touch himself?"

Misha shook his head, swallowing, and tangled his fingers in Sam's unruly, long hair, yanking his mouth close to his own.

"He's gotta wait 'til we touch him," he panted, breath hot on Sam's lips.

Sam moaned, shivering as he was pulled roughly toward Misha's mouth. "Sounds good to me."  
>He caught his brother's eye as he leaned to kiss Misha, tugging against Misha's hold on his hair as he did so.<p>

Misha slid his tongue into his mouth and scraped his nails along Sam's jaw, tugging him closer. He wrapped his legs around the hunter's waist and licked at the roof of Sam's mouth.

Misha flicked his eyes to Dean's, categorizing his reaction.

Dean whined, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as his hands fisted in the sheets. "Please, Misha – Sam – please, touch me!"  
>Sam ignored him, rolling his hips against Misha's, breaking the kiss to lick a line up his neck.<p>

Misha hummed, tilting his head back, and his eyes fluttered closed. He growled in the back of his throat and yanked Sam's hair back so that Sam's neck was bared.

Tilting forward, he sunk his teeth into the skin and worried a mark, eyes flashing wickedly to Dean.

Sam moaned, head falling back as he rolled them so Misha was on top of him, knees on either side of his waist.  
>"Cheater." he breathed.<p>

Misha laughed breathlessly, wild hair falling in front of his wicked blue eyes as he looked down.

"How so?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and sliding his fingers down Sam's chest, twisting a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

Sam keened, nearly arching off the bed.  
>"I- fuck, Misha," he panted, rolling his hips up, searching for friction.<p>

Misha chuckled lowly, lips trailing kisses down Sam's body, nipping once at his collarbone before wrapping around the other nipple.

"That's the idea," he murmured against Sam's skin.

Sam bit back a moan, twisting the fingers of one hand into Misha's hair, reaching between them to unbutton his pants with the other.

Misha sucked lightly on a nipple before sliding his body up, sinewy and lethal as a snake.

He licked the shell of Sam's ear and, nibbling at the earlobe, whispered, "How about we show Dean some love? He's such a cockslut I bet he could take us _both_." He pitched his voice a little louder. "Isn't that right, Dean?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Misha, please, I will, just please, touch me, anything," he begged, crawling towards them.  
>"I think he likes the idea," Sam chuckled.<p>

Misha hummed, watching Dean's golden body prowl towards them through lidded eyes.

"If he's gonna take us both we'll have to prep him a bit more." He lazily stroked down Sam's chest, dipping his tongue underneath the waistband of his pants.

"You sure? I think he could take us just the way he is, if he _really_ wanted to." he said, moving his hand to let Misha continue.  
>"Do you really want it, Dean? Are you willing to let us both take you, right now, want us to fill you up? Are you that much of a slut, Dean?" he asked, voice low and seductive.<br>Dean swallowed. "Oh fuck, Sam. Yes, please, I want you!" he panted, leaning to press a chaste kiss to his brother's lips.

Misha grinned against Sam's skin, sucking a mark on his own hipbone.

"What a good little whore you are, Dean. Begging so prettily for us."

Sam groaned, guiding Misha's head down further, unzipping his jeans as he did.  
>He bit Dean's full bottom lip, tugging it playfully. "I wonder what else that pretty mouth of his is good for," he mused.<p>

Misha hummed, "A lot of things, I'm sure." He hooked his fingers over Sam's jeans and boxers and pulled them down, nosing the fine hair of his happy trail.

"We'll have to see about that later," he said. "What do you think, Dean? You want to suck your little brother's cock after he's done fucking you?" he asked, licking into Dean's mouth. "Or would you rather take Misha? God, the way you submit for him, I bet you're just gagging for it." he breathed, biting and sucking a spot just under Dean's jaw.  
>Dean moaned, tilting his head back to expose more of his neck. "Sam, please, I need – please, fuck me!"<p>

Misha sucked a spot on Sam's inner thigh, watching Dean submit to Sam. His jeans tightened and he groaned against Sam's skin, palming himself before moving to the other thigh.

"Dean, Sam and I are gonna fuck you," he said conversationally, licking a wet stripe down Sam's cock, suckling on the head. "And you're gonna take it like the whore you are, got it?" He scraped his teeth gently along Sam's length, eyes gleaming.

Dean shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. "Yes, sir, Misha."  
>Sam growled, sinking his teeth into Dean's neck, thrusting shallowly into Misha's mouth as he tangled a hand into the messy dark hair.<p>

Misha hollowed his cheeks, black eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks, and he gripped Sam's hips, relaxing his throat. He let Sam fuck his mouth for a few moments before slipping his mouth off with and obscene pop, crawling in a feline predatory way over Sam's body, straddling him and pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Dean's mouth.

Dean moaned into the kiss, curling a hand around Misha's neck as he licked along the top of Misha's mouth.  
>Sam grazed his teeth along the length of Dean's neck before lying back for a moment, briefly enjoying the show.<p>

Misha chuckled lowly, eyes dark and hungry, and pulled away, smirking when Dean followed his lips.

He trailed a hand down Sam's arm, grasping his hand and sliding it to cup Dean's ass. He leaned forward, mouth to Dean's ear.

"You ready to take us, Dean?"

"God, yes!" Dean panted, biting his lip.  
>Sam smiled. "Now, now, Dean, don't forget your manners. You should ask for it." he said, lightly squeezing his brother's ass.<br>"Please, Misha... Sam. Please, fuck me, both of you!" Dean begged.

Misha grinned, licking a wet stripe from Dean's collarbone to the tip of his jaw. He trailed his fingers down Dean's spine, finger slipping into the crease of Dean's ass before murmuring.

"Be a good little whore and turn around, Dean."

Sam watched as Dean turned, sitting up. "Look at how obedient he is, such a slut for it." He breathed in Misha's ear, lips nearly touching him. "Wants it so bad," he said, tracing his tongue along the shell of Misha's ear as he scraped a nail along the line of Dean's spine. "He doesn't even think about saying no, does he?" he murmured, sliding the finger into Dean's hole.

Misha shivered and tilted his head, giving Sam more access to his ear. His lips curled at Dean's voice and he slid down Dean's body, mouth near where Sam's finger was sliding in and out.

Dean's breath hitched as he felt Sam's finger enter him. "S-Sam, please," he begged, voice rough.

Sam smirked, biting Misha's earlobe and dragging his teeth down, releasing it as Misha shifted forward.

Without warning, he slipped his tongue in alongside Sam's finger, pushing at the hot ring of muscle and twisting, tasting remnants of himself from his and Dean's last time.

Dean let out a loud, low moan, fingers fisting in the sheets as he arched his back. "Oh, fuck, Misha, more, please!" He whined, arching back against Misha's tongue.  
>Sam smiled, leaning forward as he withdrew his finger. "Don't move, Dean. We'll give it to you when we're fucking ready, whore." He growled. "Such a needy whore." He comments to Misha, sucking a bruise under his ear. "Bet he'd come even from this, and let us fuck him after still."<p>

Misha hummed in agreement, fingers flexing on Dean's ass, spreading his cheeks further. His tongue delved inside, tasting and twisting and prodding at the ring of muscle, willing it to relax and loosen. He let out a low, appreciative moan at Sam's bites, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist so that the three men were in a twisted tangle of limbs, and one was unable to tell where one began and the other stopped.

Dean whimpered, trying not to move, to grind his ass back on that mouth doing filthy things to him, making him fall apart so quickly. "Please," he asked, not even knowing what he was begging them for any more – to stop, for more, for release.  
>Sam slid his lips down Misha's neck, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. He bit down once, hard, where Misha's neck met his shoulder, before leaning back to admire the scene surrounding him. Dean's face was a furious red, his head tucked between his arms as he chewed his lip.<p>

Misha rips his mouth away, panting and groaning a rough "Fuck, Sam," shuddering at the bite. He licks once more in Dean before sliding in a finger to go along with his tongue, doubling the attack on Dean's prostate.

"You like this, Dean? Being tongue-fucked by a guy you hardly know, while your baby brother watches, while you know we're both gonna fuck you later?" Sam asked, taunting.  
>Dean lets out a strangled moan, biting his lip harder to keep from coming. "Sam, oh, god, yes." he groaned.<br>"Yes, what, Dean?" Sam teases, grinding up against Misha to relieve the pressure on his cock.

Misha shivers when Sam grinds against him and arches his hips, the angle making his skin stretch tight over the sharp bone, emphasizing the steep line of his hipbones. He keeps the steady pressure inside Dean, eyes dark and mischievous as he tongue-fucks Dean into a heady oblivion.  
>"I- I like... I like you watching me. " he stutters, blushing harder than before.<p>

"Oh, big bro gets off on having an audience, huh? You don't even care who it is." he says, voice deep with arousal. "Fucking slut," he says, going back to marking Misha's neck and chest with bruises.

He chuckles lowly at Dean's admission, wondering if he should tell Sam of how he'd fucked Dean in a public parking lot, gotten him to admit he was a slut for him in front of a crowd, spread his legs and ravished him. He just looks at Dean instead, mouth currently busy doing other things, seeing if Dean will admit that to his brother.

Dean shivered, whimpering at the onslaught of pleasure. "Please, please, Misha, please," he begged. "Please, let me come, fuck me, something."  
>Sam grins against Misha's shoulder, gripping his hipbones as he ruts against him. "Misha's going to tongue-fuck you until you come, don't worry, Dean."<br>Dean groaned in relief, digging his fingers harder into the bed as he rocked back slightly.  
>"But you're not coming until I say."<br>Dean lifted his head, eyes widening. "Sam – Sam, please, I need-"  
>"You don't need <em>any<em>thing but what we want," Sam said, voice lowering dangerously, "and we want you nice and fucked out before we use you as our toy."

Misha laughed, muffled against Dean's skin, and flicked his tongue out, massaging the quivering muscles of Dean's walls.

"You taste good, Dean. Like me," he murmured, voice rough and fucked-out, nearly at Castiel-level volume. He felt Sam shift against him and knew Sam would want the story, but he was too busy wringing out helpless sounds of pleasure from Dean, bursting from those pretty red lips. He'd leave the talking to Dean.

Dean keened, eyes fluttering shut as Misha's voice reached him. "Sam, Sam, please! Want to come," he moaned, becoming less coherent by the minute.  
>"Oh, no, I want to hear about this, Dean. When did you two fuck? I mean, you were hardly gone even an hour." He said conversationally, grazing his teeth along Misha's collarbone. "Tell me that... with details... and then maybe I'll let you come." He leaned in closer to Misha, lips brushing his ear. "Does that sounds fair to you?"<p>

Misha nibbled at one of Dean's cheeks and grinned. "Sounds good to me." He laved his tongue around Dean's hole, touching but never entering, just teasing with nips and kisses.

"But just gonna warn you, Sam, Dean was a naughty boy," he murmured, finally sliding his tongue back in and adding at second finger.

Sam smiled, licking his way back down Misha's neck. "He always is."  
>Dean whimpered, teeth worrying his lower lip. "We – went out for a beer, and – ohfuckMisha." he panted, shuddering as he felt Misha's tongue inside him again. "We were talking and – and he says something in that voice," he shivered, breathing more heavily.<p>

"Voice?" Sam asked, glancing up from Misha's collarbone.

Misha grinned predatorily, looking up from where he was.

"Dean has a thing for my bedroom voice," he rumbled, voice low and deep, rich like dark chocolate and gravelly like smoke.

Dean's arms were shaking, fingers clenched in the sheets. "We... I kissed him, and then we were making out and I said we could maybe just – just leave," he breathed.  
>"And?" Sam asked, biting gently along Misha's shoulder as he dug his fingertips into Misha's hips.<br>"He- he called me a whore." He choked out, blushing furiously.  
>Sam laughed, quiet and low. "Hmm, big brother really does get off on being called a whore, doesn't he?"<p>

"That he does," Misha murmured roughly, flipping Dean over and sinking his teeth into the meat of Dean's stomach, nosing at his hipbones and twirling his tongue into Dean's belly button.

He shuddered, rolling his ass back into Sam and practically purring.

Dean whined, arching his hips up. "Sam, please, can I-"  
>"You haven't even told half of it. Did you even make it out of the bar, or did he just fuck you in the bathroom?" Sam cut him off, grinding into Misha's ass.<p>

Misha grinned, wondering if Dean was going to tell Sam that they hadn't even made it _into_ the bar, that he'd fucked him raw outside against his car. His tongue twisted in Dean's belly button, tongue fucking it thoroughly before taking one of Dean's balls in his mouth and sucking on it.

"We were against the car and he asked... he asked if were whore enough to let him fuck me right there." He breathed, voice rough.  
>"Oh, my god, you fucking slut," Sam said darkly, biting Misha's shoulder.<br>"I said yes." Dean said, his hips jerking at Sam's tone.

Misha growled at Sam's bite, still suckling on Dean's balls, flicking his tongue into Dean's hole again.

He shuddered and pressed against Sam, sweat making his pale skin glisten.

"He fucked me against the car, made me beg to come." Dean continued, face reddening further. "Made me – let me lick his come off his fingers." He said, shutting his eyes tight. "Then he told me to come."  
>Sam groaned, raking his nails down Misha's back. "Slut. How many people were watching?"<br>Dean whimpered. "Dunno. 'lot. Sam, please!"

Misha thrusted a finger alongside his tongue, rhythmically hitting Dean's prostate again and again as he smirked. He arched his back into Sam, a low purr sounding his throat, and he presses a palm to his cock, hissing at the contact.

Dean writhed, fists clenching and unclenching as he tried not to come.  
>"Sam, Sam <em>please<em>!"  
>Sam sat up, running a hand through Misha's hair.<br>"Come, whore."  
>Dean screamed, muscles tensing, come streaking his chest as he threw his head back in ecstasy.<p>

Misha grinned, still thrusting his tongue inside Dean, knowing how oversensitive he'd be. His own cock ached in anticipation and he pinched the base so he wouldn't come soon.

Hearing Dean's tired whimpers makes him smirk and he finally moves away, sitting up and looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

"Looks like it's our turn," Sam remarked, smiling. "We might want to get him cleaned up a bit first, though." He said, shifting to drag a finger through the sticky mess on his chest and bring it up to Dean's lips.  
>"Open." Sam commanded.<br>Dean whined, parting his lips to suck at Sam's finger, lazily curling his tongue around it.  
>"Good boy," he said, ducking to lick up a bit of the come. He turned, pressing his lips to Misha's as he slid his tongue inside.<p>

Misha opened immediately, groaning at the taste of Dean's come in Sam's mouth. They battled for dominance, neither winning as he pressed closer, hands coming to tangle in Sam's hair and yank it.

"I kinda like him dirty. Shows how much of a slut he is," he growled into Sam's mouth.

Sam cried out in pleasure, his head falling back. "God, Misha, fucking great at that." he groaned, dragging his nails down Misha's shoulder blades. "Bet he's gonna fucking love this, the whore." he muttered, pressing his mouth again to Misha's, thrusting his tongue in roughly.

Misha hummed in agreement, nails scraping Sam's scalp as he let his mouth get devoured. He tugged at Sam's hair to pull him away from his mouth, sinking his teeth into the younger hunter's skin.

"We should fuck him before he falls asleep. The whore's gotten a lot of action today," he murmured into Sam's skin.

Sam moaned, baring his neck for Misha. "He wouldn't dare fall asleep," he said, just loud enough for Dean to hear. "He wants it too much."  
>Dean whimpered, sitting up a bit. His hair was spiked up everywhere, the expression on his face somewhere between sleepy and blissed-out, lower lip caught between his teeth.<br>"Lay down." Sam said, glancing over at him. Dean looked up at him before lying back down, stretching his arms above his head.

Misha looked at Dean, at his expression and state of mind, and grinned. "You think he'll get hard again?" He asked, talking over Dean to Sam as if he wasn't there, smirking as he knew Dean would start making those whining, keening noises to get their attention.

"Probably, after a while. Then we can play with him for ages," he said, tracing his tongue from Misha's collarbone to his ear. "Won't that be fun?" He directed the question at Misha, though he pitched it loud enough for Dean to hear.  
>Dean whined, more from anticipation than anything. "Sam... Misha, please."<p>

"Hmm, Dean? Did you say something? Were you told to speak, whore?" He slid in between Dean's thighs and tilted his head, letting Sam have access to his neck. "Didn't think so."

Dean licked his lips, his mouth going dry at Misha's tone. "No, sir." He replied, widening his legs a bit.  
>Sam continued mouthing at his neck, biting gently just behind his ear. "Told you he wanted it. Look at him, spreading his legs for you again so quickly."<br>Dean blushed, biting his lip to hold back a whine.

Misha laughed softly and lined himself at Dean's entrance, leaning down.

"You're gonna love this, my dirty little slut," he cooed, breath hot on Dean's ear as his tongue shot out to trace the lobe.

Dean turned, gently pressing his lips to Misha's as he suppressed a shiver.  
>"Yes, sir," he murmured, lips brushing Misha's.<br>Sam moved so he was just beside him, fingers tracing over Misha's spine. "God, he just does whatever you say, doesn't he?"

Misha laughed throatily, finally sliding into Dean, hissing at the slick heat. "Has all day, haven't you?" He crooned into Dean's ear, sinking his teeth into his earlobe.

Dean moaned, arching his back. "Yes- fuck, yes sir," he breathed, nails digging into his palms. He felt so good and so full and it was too much, but somehow not enough. "Sam?"  
>"Look at him, Misha, such a greedy little bitch. He's come twice tonight and he still wants more." Sam said, shifting so his cock was at Dean's entrance. "You want us both, Dean? Think you can take us?"<br>"Sam, yes, fuck," he panted.

Misha bit his lip, shifting a little so Sam had more room. He was breathing hard, Dean hot against inside him, and he knew that the heat was about to become sinfully tight, all hot skin and muscle.

Sam pushed in slowly, biting his lip and moaning. "Damnit, Dean, so fuckin' tight," he panted.  
>Dean keened as Sam entered him, overwhelmed by the sensations - the pleasure and the pain of being so full, and the oversensitivity making his head spin. "Sam, Sam, too much, god!" he moaned, head thrashing even as he ground down against them.<p>

Misha closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, fuck," he growled. "Dean, you're so fucking tight." He shifted slightly, slowly moving in and out and panting harshly.

He gripped one of Dean's hips and watched as Sam gripped the other, jaw clicking as he swallowed.

Sam gasped as Misha began to move beside him. "Oh, Jesus _fuck_." He breathed, trying to match Misha's slow pace, gently thrusting deeper inside before withdrawing slowly.  
>Dean was writhing underneath them, moaning and whimpering as his fingers twisted themselves again into the sheets. Pleasure and pain bled into each other, everything to sharp and too much. He could feel his cock twitch, groaning as blood began to rush southward, a flush spreading across his chest.<p>

Misha grinned, sharp and lethal, and let his gaze wander down Dean's contorted face and flushed chest, smirking at the growing hardness.

"Look at you, already hard again for us. How many times you gonna come, Dean? Isn't twice enough?" He cooed, voice strained from the feeling of Dean's muscles clenching, milking both him and Sam.

"We should just leave him hard after this," Sam panted. "Play with him until we're ready to go again." He rocked his hips forward again, harder, hitting Dean's prostate.  
>Dean keened, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Sam, it hurts!" he whined.<br>Sam rocked into him again, harder. "Do you want us to stop?" He asked, not considering it an option.  
>"N- no, feels good, too." Dean swallowed.<p>

Misha hissed between his teeth and thrust faster, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at Dean's suffocating heat, hungry muscles trying to pull him in more.

"Fuckin' hell, Dean, you're so hungry for it, so needy. You gonna milk us both 'til we both come in you, is that it, Dean? Hmm?" His voice is rough and low, gritty in its Castiel-level volume.

Dean gripped the sheets tighter, moaning as he tried to meet Misha's thrusts. "Misha," he whimpered.  
>"Can barely fuckin' talk, huh, Misha, ain't that cute?" Sam commented, reaching forward to twist one of Dean's nipples, grinning at the yowl it drew from him.<br>"Sounds like an animal, a goddamn bitch in heat."

Misha panted, sweat dripping down his face. "'Course he does. He's been fucked three times today without much break. Poor things gotta be so oversensitive…" Misha smirked, and bent down to suck a mark on the sensitive, vulnerable part of Dean's neck, right where his pulse fluttered and beat.

"He was the one beggin' for it." Sam groaned.  
>Dean whined, arching his neck to give Misha more room. A constant stream of whimpers fell from his mouth as he writhed against the onslaught of sensation.<br>"So fuckin' close. Whore's like a goddamn professional." Sam panted.

"He's just so hungry for it," Misha moaned, still sucking a mark to the pulse point, sliding his tongue across the bite. Misha slammed into Dean, nearly whimpering himself as he felt Dean clench around them, hissing at the sensation.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer," he gasped, face still in Dean's neck.

Dean moaned loudly, nearly screaming as Misha slammed into him.  
>Sam growled, fucking into him faster as he felt heat pooling at the base of his spine. "Fuck, Dean!" he moaned as he came, his vision whiting out as he nearly collapsed on top of him.<p>

Misha groaned softly, clenching his fingers in Dean's hips and leaned down to brush his mouth against Dean's ear. "Scream for me, Dean, and then come," he growled, guttural and low in his Castiel voice.

He felt Dean shiver and clench instinctively and it was enough to make his orgasm rip through him, emptying himself inside of Dean and collapsing on top of Sam, panting.

Dean shuddered, throwing his head back as he screamed, orgasm tearing through him.  
>Sam groaned as he slid off to Dean's side, leaning to press an open-mouthed kiss to Dean's lips, slowly thrusting his tongue in, <em>tasting<em> him.  
>Dean moaned contentedly into the kiss, running a hand through Misha's hair as he let his brother explore his mouth.<p>

Misha purred, pressing his hand into the touch like a cat and tracing his fingers down Dean's stomach, idly over the dip of his hips.

"You did so well, Dean," Misha murmured, eyelids heavy and mouth low and warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean smiled against Sam's lips, eyes still shut as he hummed sleepily. Sam chuckled as he slid down Dean's body, licking at the hollow of his neck.  
>"I like post-sex sleep as much as the next guy, but... shower first?" He asked, turning to Misha.<p>

Misha blinked his eyes dazedly, curling his fingers through Sam's hair. "Alright," he murmured, shifting in the sticky sweat of his skin. He leaned down and dragged his nose up Dean's neck, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Alright, Dean, time to get you cleaned up."

Dean frowned, cracking open an eye to glance down at Sam and Misha. "Don't wanna." he pouted, sitting up slightly as he spoke.  
>Sam smiled, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to Misha. "Come on. There's a bathroom in here with a huge shower."<p>

He let Sam pull him up, looking up at him under a shock of dark hair and big blue eyes. He looked down at Dean, snaking his fingers through that cropped hair and tilting Dean's head back, leaning down to murmur in his ear. "Dean, be a good boy and get up now."

"Mmm. Fine." he murmured, still pouting slightly as he got to his feet.  
>Sam grinned at the both of them, curling his hand around the small of Dean's back, turning to press his lips to Misha's before moving his hand to Dean's wrist. "Come on, Dean. Shower's over here," he said, gently leading him.<p>

Misha smiled into the kiss and looked at Dean, grinning. "He's so cute when he pouts," he said to Sam, carding his hands through Dean's messy sleep hair. He trailed his finger down Dean's spine, tracing each vertebrae.

"Pft. Yeah, until you live with it. Then it's annoyingly cute." Sam smirked, pushing the bathroom door open and flicking on the light.  
>"'m not cute. Or annoying." Dean muttered, shivering as Misha's finger traced down his spine.<br>Sam let go of his wrist, bending to turn on the water before turning back to Dean.  
>"Yeah, you are. I had to deal with this for years." he said, speaking to them both.<p>

Misha grinned at Dean's sleep-slurred voice, the southern twang slipping endearingly through. He cooed, sliding his hands over Dean's body and petting him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Rough life, Sam. He's adorable." Misha smiled crookedly at Sam from his position behind Dean, practically holding him up.

Dean sighed, nuzzling Misha's neck, the tip of his tongue peeking out to lick under Misha's ear.  
>"He is that." Sam replied, laughing quietly as he stepped back into the shower. He moaned as the spray hit him, tilting his head back. "You guys gonna leave me alone here?" he smirked, leaning against the back wall of the shower, rivulets of water running down his toned chest.<p>

Misha leaned into Dean's touch, laughing softly. At Sam's voice, he turned and bit his lip, eyeing the running water and stepping in, dragging Dean with him by the wrist. He slid his hands down Sam's body, tracing the structure of his abdominal muscles and watching in fascination as they twitched under his fingertips.

Dean followed Misha, blinking slowly as he wrapped his arms around Misha's waist from behind, fingers rubbing over the protruding hipbones. He rested his chin on Misha's shoulder, eyes drifting half-shut.  
>Sam smiled, shivering slightly as Misha's hands slid down his body. He curled a hand around Misha's neck, fingers toying with the fine hairs at the back of his neck.<p>

Misha purred, from the attention to his hips and the hand playing at the nape of his neck, leaning into Sam's touch. He let the warm water slide down his body, chest against Sam and back into Dean. His eyelids fluttered, and he felt warm, content.

Sam pressed his lips to Misha's, gently licking into his mouth. His free hand slipped around him to Dean's shoulder, fingers blindly tracing the edge of the handprint.  
>Dean shivered. "Dean, you know you're gonna have to move at some point, right? You can't stay plastered to Misha forever." He said playfully as he momentarily broke the kiss.<br>"Mhmm." he hummed, nuzzling back into Misha's neck. "Comfy here. Don't gotta stand on m'own." he murmured, lips sliding against Misha's skin.

Misha chuckled softly, lips seeking out Sam's again as they met for another light kiss, sucking his tongue gently into his mouth. He broke away, smiling and shivering at Dean's mouth.

"I don't mind," he murmured quietly, eyes warm and affectionate.

Sam smiled, shaking his head. "Why did I ever think the point of a shower would be to get clean?" he laughed, still fingering Dean's scar.


End file.
